


Laughter and Kisses

by Theifindi



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Good Loki, Hurt Loki, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Odin's A+ Parenting (Marvel), Possessive Thor, Protective Thor, Seer Loki, So much angst, assume everything is canon except nobody died and this is a very unspecified period in time, i'm norse pagan and i may have sprinkled it in here more than a little, loki has ptsd and he's TRYING okay, no beta we die like thanos fucking should have, non specified Jarvis-Vision situation, not between loki and thor tho, redeemed loki, thor just wants everyone to be safe and happy, thor loves his brother more than anything, trust me counter: 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:07:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29311569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theifindi/pseuds/Theifindi
Summary: Loki knows he doesn't have a lot of time left before he's thrown back to rot.He just wants to make it count.
Relationships: Angrboða | Angerboda/Loki (Norse Religion & Lore), Loki/Sigyn, Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73





	1. Main Story

**Author's Note:**

> Another little pet fic of mine. Been working on it for a while and it holds a near and dear place in my heart. I hope you like. <3

All his life, Loki had just been trading one pain for another. This was bad, he reflected, but after a while- well. You’d be surprised what you could get used to. He didn’t even scream anymore.

-=-

When he was young, he didn’t understand. Everyone loved Thor, wanted to be around him, and laughed at his jokes. What was the problem if Loki did, too? If he felt a thrill of delight whenever Thor’s blue eyes alighted on him? So what, if he was ecstatic when Thor wanted to spend time with him, and only him? Because he was; he wanted Thor to want to play with only him, train with only him, sit next to him at meals- wanted to be _cool_ so Thor would _like_ him.

When they were little, they were so close. Baths together, combing and (clumsily) braiding each other’s hair. Playing games together, adventuring together. It seemed like nothing could separate them.

And then came Sif, and the Warriors Three, and suddenly it wasn’t just Loki and Thor anymore. Slowly, unless Thor insisted, Loki wasn’t invited along anymore. It wasn’t “cool” to be gifted in seidr and not straightforward battle. It wasn’t “cool” to like reading about adventures instead of living them.

And Thor, who once would allow Loki to regale him with a tale from a tome, began to give excuses and drift away. Thor, who had always _made_ time before, no longer found his little brother so vital.

At the time, Loki hadn’t been able to wrap his mind around it. He just couldn’t understand why everyone else was treating this as normal. Why did only their mother send Loki sympathetic looks when once more Thor did not show for supper because he was out with his friends? This was _not_ normal, this was the farthest _thing_ from normal, and yet Loki was expected to bear it as though it were.

It took watching Thor from a high tower, book in hand, Thor in the training grounds below, muscles flexing under the sun, his tanned skin glistening, before Loki realized. What he felt for Thor- it wasn’t brotherly. Not even a little. He wanted what most young women were beginning to notice, what _Sif_ was beginning to notice. Those muscles above him, below him, those eyes full of heat trained on his, full of hunger and desire. That length, moving within him, or Loki’s encased in wonderful heat. That voice, screaming his name.

But it was more than just that, wasn’t it? He wanted Thor to take his hand, to whisper jokes in his ear, to sooth his nightmares and delight in his triumphs. He wanted to see Thor shine, _really_ shine.

He loved Thor- more than as brothers. And that meant he’d have to learn how to lie. How to hide. Every secret place, every secret thing, he’d have to learn. Enough to bury the secret he now held inside.

He turned away from the window then, lest someone chance to see him staring there.

-=-

It got easier to hide, but his feelings only ever ran deeper, seeped into his bones until he damn near vibrated from the force of it. He started to hate- hate himself, for the awful, wonderful, agonizing feelings that didn’t go away. Thor, for laying with any woman who caught his eye, for this space between them. All of Asgard, for the way they looked at him. Like he was the black sheep, like he didn’t deserve what he had.

When he passed Thor in the halls, it took all of his control not to show his thoughts on his face, the image of slamming Thor up against a wall and kissing him stupid filed away for later, when Loki could be alone in the darkness of his rooms, where he could pretend, dangerously, just for a little, that Thor shared his feelings.

Pretend that he was not a disgusting monster.

-=-

So many mistakes, between there and here. So many times Loki pushed him away, pushed everyone away, to protect himself. To protect them. Let them think he hated them, that he despised goodness and peace, that he was petty and vain. Let him be the monster, just don’t let them see him for the real monster that he was. Is. Let Thor be happy with his Jane, far from Loki and the illness he carried with him.

By the time Loki had wanted to stop, to take it all back, it was far too late. Too far gone.

He traded the pain of loving Thor for the pain of the Chitauri, of the Tesseract. They’d known what he was and to get him to do what they wanted, they’d shown him what heat really was. Lamps and pokers and open flame, constant and unrelenting until he screamed, until he promised them anything, anything, just _stop._ Please, make it stop.

Another trade. Another.

Loki knew pain like an old friend, her bitter and stinging taste, the ache that settled, and the numbness after. You’d be surprised what you can get used to.

It all led here, anyway, so what did it all matter? He’d Seen his fate many times before, and it had never changed. Always a cave. Always a serpent. Always agony.

The pain of hunger had faded relatively quickly, a background gnawing that was acknowledged and then dismissed. The only thing to eat was this blistering venom, dripping without relent, and Loki really couldn’t stop or influence where it went. His eyes had been the first to go. His nose and tongue both followed soon after. His throat was ruined from the inside and out- he couldn’t scream even if he had the urge to anymore.

Relieving himself really wasn’t an issue, either- the slab below couldn’t care, he wasn’t wearing any clothes to worry about dirtying, and there wasn’t anyone but the serpent to worry about offending; and it was dead.

It would be this way, until somehow the venom reached his brain. But Loki didn’t think that would happen for a very long time.

-=-

“ _Why_ do we need his help? Isn’t Strange available?” Tony groaned, flopping down in front of the conference table.

“Strange doesn’t know seidr like the Aesir, and there’s only one Aesir who’s a real expert on this stuff _and…_ can’t say no.” Steve rubbed his jaw, contemplating the holo map. “I don’t like it either, Tony, but we have enough people and the technology to minimize the risk. It’s a good plan.”

The team was gathered in the conference room- they had it on good authority that HYDRA was testing technology that had to do with seidr, harnessing it for weaponization. It wouldn’t be a problem except their intel said it was working and would be ready for mass manufacture soon. Which meant the Avengers had to act.

Thor was standing away from the group, arms crossed, looking furious. No one was willing to talk to him about it. How would you even start that conversation?

“Alright, Thor, where do we find him?” Bucky asked, solemn and straightforward. Tony has wondered more than once how much Bucky sympathizes with their once-enemy.

“We must go to the depths. We will need medical supplies, water, and broth.” Thor spoke in a low rumble, but everyone heard. “Know before we go that his fate was our father’s choice, and none of you have to follow me if you do not wish to.”

In the end, the quinjet was full with the complete Avengers team. As they were loading up the jet, Thor had seen the restraints Clint packed and snorted with derisive laughter. (Clint thought that was a little much, but seeing how touchy the thunder god was, he wasn’t exactly keen on pushing buttons.)

Then they were off, to a mountain far to the north, covered in snow. Thor showed them where to land, and led them to a rocky cliff face. It melted away at his touch, a glowing o-shaped rune burning brightly and then disappearing. He turned back to his companions, and found them all ready to follow him. Bruce hefted the medical supplies, and Clint had the restraints clipped to his belt.

Thor took a deep breath and let it out in a gust. So be it. They began the descent into the dark, flashlights illuminating each step. Warm wind blew up through the cavern, and the steps seemed neverending. The first time their ears popped, Tony made a noise of mild surprise. By the third time, it was a grumble.

Thor spent the descent reflecting. It felt like the only thing that he could do, walking all this way, not knowing what he’d end up carrying out. Odin had only sanctioned the visit after Thor had vowed Loki as his responsibility- whatever Loki did while he was out would reflect on Thor as well, and earn them both punishment ( _or reward_ , came the hopeful voice in the back of his mind he’d never quite seemed to learn to shut out.)

He remembered suddenly, when they were very young, finding Loki crying in the library for a reason he still didn’t know. He’d taken Loki in his lap and held him close, trying to soothe him like their mother did, until Loki was sniffling softly into his chest. As a boy, Thor had never been prone to nightmares. Sure, the odd one here or there, about normal things. But Loki had nightmares a lot, about the dark and the cold and monsters with glowing red eyes. He’d crawl into Thor’s bed, sometimes crying and sometimes only shaking, and Thor would hold him and tell him stories, or whisper jokes until finally Loki would crack a smile, and then a laugh.

They’d been the best of friends, the best of brothers. And then…

It was no use dwelling on what was in the past, what was done. The pain that had twisted up Loki’s mind and heart and made him believe everyone was against him, that Thor thought himself _better_ than him… Some of it was undoubtedly Thor’s fault, his arrogance and pride blinding him to his brother’s needs, but he’d learned better.

Learned, but too late.

-=-

The first thing that reached Loki was the tapping. It wasn’t hard to pick out, it was the only sound besides the _plip plip_ of venom onto his face, and the accompanying sizzle as it ate away at whatever flesh still clung to his bones.

He wondered at first if it was water, somehow, dripping from somewhere. He dismissed it quickly, however, when he realized that it was actually many sounds, and more of a shuffle with impacts than taps. It was growing louder, which meant closer. The idea of what it could be consumed him. There was nothing else to distract him from this, the only new thing in what felt like years.

A monster, maybe? Something destined to spend its remaining years here, with him? Or was it his mercy, here to at last end this pain and grant him oblivion? What would it even feel like, a world without this pain? He couldn’t imagine it.

He remembered the day he’d held the Casket, the way it had revealed his true nature, his true parentage. He had been frozen in disbelief.

It was only later, in his rooms, when he forced the illusion away (easy, now that he knew it was there) and let it sink in. Of course, of course he was more gifted with seidr. Of course he’d felt strange his whole life. One more secret to stash away, one more thing to demand answers about from his “father.”

He had stared at his reflection in his mirror for a long time. His red eyes, his blue skin. The familial lines that traced his form and meant _nothing_ to him. A stolen past, a significance he’d never know. He touched the glass, watched it freeze around his fingers.

_Hideous._

… Hideous. Hideous, hideous, _hideous._

Loki had begun to laugh. Loud, rib-rattling sobs and wails of laughter. It was almost a relief, to see, to know. He thought of Thor, the hate in his eyes when speaking of the Jotunn.

Monsters. Hideous.

Now Thor _really_ wouldn’t look twice at him. His golden brother not truly a brother at all, and the possibility that opened snuffed before it could ever be. Loki laughed until he cried, until his knees gave out and he was on the floor, resting against his bed, sprawled before the mirror. He sobbed raggedly, grieving, having not realized the bit of hope that had still been inside him that maybe _someday_ -

He held himself at the elbows, clumsily tucked up his knees, and he cried. Sometimes he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and felt despair tuck her curtain around his shoulders like a cold blanket.

Hideous. A monster.

-=-

The smell was what reached them first. Acrid and sharp, and something low and dirty. A port-a-potty without whatever chemicals they put in it to try to cover the stench. As they got closer, it was joined by the iron tang of blood, and something rotting, something that had been all of these things for a long time. The stench gradually got worse and worse, until it was so oppressive that it just _was._ No one gagged, it was so slow a build. And no one was expecting the sight that met to be pretty now, not after that.

The stairs narrowed to single file, until at the bottom they yawned into a room that was no larger than Tony’s bedroom. It was lit around the perimeter by unseen, steady, slightly blue lights. Above, twisted around a stalactite was a snake, vividly green and _massive_. Its eyes were milky-dead. Its mouth hung open and steadily dripped a clear viscous fluid, which landed with a hiss onto a lump spread out on a slab that was in the center of the room.

Thor drew closer first, followed by the others.

It was a man- or, what was left of one. He lay naked on the slab, every bone in his body seemed like it was trying to burst through his skin. He was so thin. His lower half was a mess of excrement that hardly bared looking at, and his face-

His face was _ruined._ Whatever dripped from the snake was like acid. It had eaten away nearly all the skin and flesh on his face, but in patches. A lot of the forehead, both eyes, his nose, more one cheek than the other, chin, throat… White bone gleamed through, blood twinkling in the light and crusted dry on the slab below.

“Thor, how does this help us find your brother?” Tony asked, disturbed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the corpse before him, and the thought circling his head of _Thor said he would take us to Loki, this must be Loki_ just wouldn’t compute.

Thor didn’t seem like he’d heard. He went closer to the slab in a daze. For the first time, the Avengers realized the body had been bound- manacles secured it to the slab at both wrists and ankles. They must have been magic, as they fit snuggly even to so emaciated and delicate wrists.

“Thor, why’d you bring us here?” Steve asked, not upset, but confused and concerned.

“ _Loki._ ” Thor breathed, his voice cracking and ragged.

The corpse on the slab, its face mostly skull, turned oh-so-slightly toward the sound. It made no other moves, did not speak, and did not flinch as the acid began to drip onto its cheek and temple.

“Thor- _this_ is Loki?” Bruce demanded.

But Thor wasn’t listening.

“Brother, Loki, I’ve come to free you. We- we all have.”

The corpse- _Loki_ \- began to shake, his head thrown back as much as he could. He made no noise. At first, Tony thought he was crying, but- no, he recognized that pose, warped though it was.

Loki was laughing.

-=-

In his mind, Loki had a million fantasies. Each one more a memory than a dream, simply changed.

The Yule masquerade, where he would dance endlessly in Thor’s arms, twirling beneath the golden chandeliers. Sometimes it was him, as he was, and sometimes he wore another’s face- a _woman’s_ face. Hiding, always hiding, even in his dreams. He would stare into Thor’s eyes, memorize their color like he’d never known what _blue_ was before. He would run his fingers through Thor’s beard, messing the braids with a mischievous glint in his eye that Thor would laugh at. Laugh with. And at the end, Thor would kiss him breathless, right there before everyone.

Hunting, where at night Thor would come to his bedroll and tumble him, laughing and dirty and warm beside the fire.

The library, where Loki would read aloud old tomes while Thor ate nuts and grapes lazily on the carpet, and they would laugh at hunts gone wrong of ages old and silly old men who believed magic was so much less than it was. They would laugh, and Thor would throw a grape into Loki’s mouth, and Loki would kick him, and it would end in sloppy kisses there amongst the shelves. Kisses and laughter, forever and ever.

But that wasn’t what happened. It was Sif Thor danced with at the masquerade. On hunts, Thor always remained on his side of the fire, and Loki on his. In the library, Loki was always cold and alone; alone with his books.

He’d had a lot of time to relive these old fantasies, in idle moments down here in the dark when he let his guard down.

But never had his dreams been so real. And so cruel. Thor and all his friends, come to save him? The monster in their nightmares, the bane of their dear city at the _least_? How novel. How cliché. He couldn’t help but laugh. And now he would be whole, and Thor would kiss him like he’d always hoped for? How _trite._ No, Loki had come to terms long ago. There was no happy ending for monsters like him. No silver linings.

For him was the cave, and the serpent, and the slab. In the dark. Forever. It was where he belonged. What all his ventures had wrought him.

“Loki, Loki, no- please, brother, believe. I am _here_ , I am here, we are real.”

When could Thor read minds? Surely, a dream. Maybe one he’d file away for later, when he was feeling particularly masochistic.

Pressure, on his wrist but from the other side of the metal. Metal he’d long since stopped struggling against, that once bit and ripped into his skin but was now simply accepted as one of the never-changing aspects of existence here. Pressure, and then release. Again, again, again. He was free- was he free?

Loki summoned what he could of the last of his energy, and tried moving. His arms he could curl to his chest. His ankles did not protest when he drew his knees up. Well- every part of his body protested. Everything was one searing, burning scream of agony. But he could _move_. He began to tremble, abruptly unsure. Was this it? Was he about to die? This hallucination some strange mercy from the unknown? Or was it a test? Odin, trying to see if he would take the opportunity to escape, if given it?

The acid again, and he flinched.

“Easy, brother, hush now, Loki.” Thor, close and familiar, his voice a low and comforting rumble.

Loki curled towards him like a child, lost and afraid. Some distant part of him was still laughing; how silly, this one little thing changes and he’s reduced to this? How they must be laughing, their once-great enemy become feeble.

Even Thor helping him off the slab, gentle though he was, made Loki nearly pass out in pain. A wet cloth, not warm but that hardly mattered to Loki now, scraped his body over and over, pausing to be rinsed and wrung out. It hurt. It hurt to be cleansed. His skin was too sensitive. His face was the worst, and though Thor was gentle, Loki writhed weakly in his grasp.

Somewhere inside, Loki was deliriously delighted that Thor would allow no one else to touch him.

It took a long time, but at last he was bandaged, and Thor swaddled him in his cloak, and they began the ascent. Out of the cave.

-=-

In the quinjet, Thor held him close, in his lap, and put a cloth soaked with watery broth in his mouth. It dripped passively down Loki’s throat, and was painful, so painful, but Thor did not stop. He whispered softly to Loki, his voice an anchor in the sea of darkness.

Thor stroked his hair, told him he was safe, and when the broth was gone, simply held him.

The remainder of his strength spent, Loki slept.

-=-

Loki dreamed. He dreamed of his mother’s garden, of all the pretty flowers.

Of the library, warm and cozy and safe.

Of his rooms, his very first hideout.

Of Thor, always of Thor, golden hair and cool blue eyes, heated sun and refreshing stream, laughter spilling out of windows, ozone and lightning, rumble of thunder and the safety of indoors. Thor, Thor, Thor.

-=-

When he woke, it was warm. If it weren’t for that, he would have believed himself in the cave still. He did feel restrained somehow, and struggled weakly, more inquisitive than escapist.

“Loki, I am here. Fear not.” Thor. Loki went limp with relief. Not restrained, then. Held. “We are almost home. The Avenger’s Tower.”

Loki was on one hand grateful for the detail. On the other, he found himself vaguely afraid. All his life, Loki had just been trading one pain for another. Was this simply one more trade?

Thor pet his hair, soothed him with whispers, and carried him out of the jet, across the small strip of windy, cold space, and into the building. Loki rested against Thor’s chest and lost himself to the sound of the Thunderer’s heartbeat. Warm. Alive. He slept.

-=-

Tony hung back with Bruce, watching Thor disappear into the elevator with the corpse that was Loki. They both stood silent and staring for a long time. What was there to say about something like what they were just a part of?

“What kind of archaic motherfucking _bullshit_ was _that?_ ” Clint’s voice made them both turn.

Clint and Natasha had just finished bringing in the little bit of gear they’d brought with them. Tony signaled the armor and let it fall away from him, back to its docking station in pieces. He knew Clint didn’t like talking about that time, when Loki had controlled him, forced him, but-

“Did you ever see anything like that before?” Tony couldn’t help but ask him.

Clint was staring guiltily down at the restraints he’d brought but hadn’t used.

“No.” He said vaguely, shaking his head. “No, I never- he was just quiet. When he wasn’t, y’know. He was just quiet.”

Clint stared off, seeing something only he could. Tony gave the elevator a long, calculated look.

-=-

Avengers Tower was colder than the cave. Or maybe Loki just couldn’t retain the heat anymore, despite Thor’s best attempts. He knew they needed him for something, but he didn’t have the throat to ask, and Thor wasn’t telling. Loki refrained as best he could. He’d find out, in time. His seidr was returning to him, slowly but surely, and with it, he was healing.

He felt like an infant. If Thor wasn’t holding him to help clean or feed him, Loki was swaddled in blankets and confined to an armchair (he refused to lay in a bed- Thor had tried that and Loki had struggled so vehemently he’d finally relented.) (Not that that struggling had been anything but pathetic, mind, Loki nearly passed out just trying to sit up.) Thor had set up a radio in the room that seemed to play nothing but classical Midgardian music, and it was slowly driving Loki mad. The silence would have been worse, however, so he did not protest this.

As much as he could, Loki tried to be independent. He fiercely needed to be able to do things for himself; this display of weakness would not stand. He did his best to bury the cave, bury it with every other unthinkable thought. But like all of those, when he slept, the cave returned. Thor attending him didn’t help. It was too easy to forget, too tempting to think this all a dream, where there were no consequences and he could do as he pleased. Yet for all his faults, Loki had always known the difference between waking and dreaming, and this was all very real.

When at last his throat and tongue had healed enough, Loki was able to care enough for himself as to blindly feel his way about Thor’s chambers. He could feed and clean himself, and ate until he nearly threw up. The other Avengers had not approached him, but he felt their weight on his shoulders. Being here made him paranoid. It had been four days.

Thor was never far if Loki needed him, not that Loki had ever even tried expressing that, but on the fifth day he had gone somewhere, and Loki took it upon himself to test his voice as he walked about. Just muttering nonsense to himself- old nursery rhymes and tales he’d thought he’d forgotten, chanting the runes without seidr backing it.

Thor had a floor all to himself, and Loki dared not leave it. After he was healed, however, Thor came to him with an apologetic smile and the news that the Avengers had requested a meeting with him. Loki knew it would happen, and that it was not truly a request. There he would learn what they needed of him. It was the ninth day.

They arrived to a conference room with the Avengers present already. Thor took a seat, and Loki sat beside him gingerly. His freshly healed form was tender yet, and fragile.

“Loki, thank you for joining us.” Captain Rogers said, standing, evidently taking charge. Loki inclined his head and clasped his hands in his lap.

It was by chance that he saw the archer eye him suspiciously, and hastened to put his hands flat on the tabletop. The archer relaxed minutely, and Loki knew he’d made the right move.

“We pulled you out, as I’m sure you guessed, for a reason.” Rogers continued.

They explained HYDRA, and the seidr weapons. They wanted Loki to see if he could tell how they worked, and how to stop them. Loki nodded- this was a small task. He could do this. His body may have been weak, but his seidr was as strong as ever. He could feel it thrumming in his veins.

“And, hey, before we all blow this popsicle stand, I’ve got some ground rules for living here, Loki.” The Man of Iron stood, clapping and rubbing his hands together. Loki concealed his jump at the sudden noise by hurriedly faking a sneeze.

He waited. This too, he was expecting.

“Don’t break my stuff, no casting magic in the house, and no weapons or sneaky stuff, either. JARVIS, you catch all that?”

“Yes, sir.” A disembodied voice answered.

“Awesome. That’s JARVIS. He can see everything you do at any given time, basically anywhere. If you break the rules, he’ll tell me immediately, and there will be consequences. Otherwise, you’re welcome in all the common spaces just like everyone else, and I assume you’ll share Thor’s space.”

Consequences. Loki felt himself pale. He knew he’d be going back to the cave when they were done with him, but he hadn’t even thought of things which might get him sent back sooner. He swallowed, and willed himself not to tremble, for his face not to change. He inclined his head again in consent and when he was dismissed, he took his leave quietly. Thor stayed, presumably to continue planning for the assault on HYDRA.

Normally, perhaps, Loki would sate his curiosity and explore, but he found himself hesitant. What if he overstepped some unknown boundary? What if he was sent back tonight? He went to Thor’s floor, to Thor’s bedroom, because that must be safe, it _must_ be. He dithered for a moment, pacing and wringing his hands.

Thor’s room was spacious, with a large bed and two nightstands. There was a bedside lamp on one, and it sat amid a few odds and ends Loki couldn’t make sense of. The bed was plush, and draped in lush red and gold. Too comfortable, so Loki rejected it. The carpet was a light, neutral grey, and the walls were white. The wall opposite the door was made of glass, offering a view of the city. Long curtains hung from the top, also a deep red, but they were pushed to either side for now.

Bed rejected, Loki went to the window and sank to the floor.

Even the carpet was plush, but it was harder than the bed, and the cool of the glass on his face soothed the itch beneath his skin.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt like an empty shell, just a husk. Hollowed out by the serpent. How funny, to think he’d left the cave, only to find it yawning back at him in his own eyes whenever he found his reflection? He was still a monster, he knew that. He could hold on to that, if nothing else. The way the archer had looked at him… He was no more trusted than a wild beast let loose in a child’s bedroom.

Still… He had Thor. Monster or not, Thor had treated him with kindness. How much more of that would he get, before he had to go back? How much more _could_ he get? He had to play his hand as best he could, and that way when he returned he would have a whole slew of fresh memories to replay in his mind. New smiles, new laughs. And maybe, if he was very lucky, Thor would come for him again when needing assistance of some kind.

If he was very, _very_ lucky…

-=-

Loki awoke to Thor’s gentle, warm hand on his shoulder.

“Come, brother, it is time to eat.” Thor rumbled softly. The world outside had turned dark, with lights winking from other buildings and cars passing silently below.

Loki unfolded himself and made sure to stick close as Thor led him to the dining hall.

The hall was less a hall than it was a room, and the table was small. Still, it was large enough to fit all of the Avengers and then some. When Loki and Thor entered, the murmur of conversation ceased. No one stared, but Loki was no fool. He allowed Thor to load his plate for him, and it did smell wonderful, but-

He knew when he wasn’t wanted. Sif and the Warriors Three had taught him that well enough. He took his plate in hand after another moment, inclined his head in thanks, and murmured a soft, “Excuse me.” He ignored Thor’s look as he left. The conversation resumed slowly behind him, and Loki ate in Thor’s rooms alone, wondering why the food tasted like ash and settled in his stomach like lead.

-=-

Life settled into a routine. Loki spent most of his time in Thor’s rooms, wandering restlessly or simply watching the world go by outside of the expansive windows. If he did enter the common area, it was with Thor or not at all. He didn’t know if it put the Avengers more at ease to have him out of sight or to keep him where they could see him. Regardless, he ensured to always put himself in easy line of sight and to always be holding something. He couldn’t cast if he was holding something, a fact he believed most of them had caught on to.

If he helped them relax- not make himself trustworthy, he knew he wouldn’t- if he could make himself _harmless_ , then maybe- maybe it would buy him more time?

Sometimes, Doctor Strange came by with a piece of technology taken from HYDRA, and with Loki’s guidance took it apart and revealed how to counter it, pulling the seidr away.

At night, Loki read. Or watched TV. He tried not to sleep. Thor gave him his own room; it looked identical to Thor’s, only reversed in layout and everything was that neutral grey and white. When he did sleep, it was on the floor, and he usually woke to a hoarse throat and wet cheeks. It was how he figured out that the walls must be soundproofed.

The only Avengers who weren’t obviously wary around him were the Scarlet Witch and the Winter Soldier. Loki actually enjoyed Wanda’s company, and spoke with her softly and at length about the differences between her magic and seidr, because they were indeed different. The only time they got to talk was when Loki visited the common areas with Thor, and even then they sat on a loveseat with a respectable distance, Loki’s eyes on the floor and voice as gentle as he knew how to make it.

It was Wanda who recommended chamomile tea on his sleepless nights. Loki enjoyed tea- he remembered his mother showing him how to brew the leaves perfectly- but this was just a sheer bag of herbs one stuck into boiling water and then waited.

It worked just as well, however, so it became common for Loki to sneak to the common kitchen at night for a cup, when the floors were otherwise deserted. It was where Wanda kept her stash, which while she made it clear he was welcome to, he didn’t feel comfortable taking some back to Thor’s kitchen.

And so it became that he was friends with Wanda and polite acquaintances with Doctor Strange, and Thor’s shadow to everyone else. Thor was a strong, comforting presence always. He saw to Loki’s every need, and never asked anything of him. He talked to Loki often, delight clear on his face whenever Loki graced him with an answer.

There were many things Loki would have _liked_ to say. Barbs and knives, words meant to wound and keep away- but he was too tired for that. He would be back in the cave soon; he would rather spend his time while free soaking up all the tenderness he could from Thor, and he knew if he wanted any, he mustn’t fight. He mustn’t be cruel. So he was patient instead, and was free with his smiles for his brother, and spoke gently.

He could not apologize for all he had done, or for what he was- the words would not be enough. It was better not to speak of it, to instead pretend like this was how they could be forever; laughter and kisses forever and ever. Even if the latter were only in his imagination.

-=-

The Avengers all had to leave one night- some publicity event Thor did not explain well. Tony seemed hesitant at best to leave Loki to his own devices, but apparently was eventually convinced, because Loki found himself alone.

Bolder now since the first week or so, Loki contented himself to explore the common areas. He rifled through the movies in the entertainment area, curiously reading the short descriptions on the back (and scoffing at most of them.) He hadn’t been around for team movie night, though Thor had gone. Loki had elected to stay and watch cable TV. He went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea. There was fudge in the fridge that Banner made, which Loki had not tried because it seemed as though it was meant more for Banner’s friends, of which Loki was not among.

But Banner was not there, and wouldn’t know if Loki carefully cut off a sliver of one square, just to try. Loki had never had fudge.

It melted on his tongue, spreading chocolate over his palette. Loki hummed softly- it was delicious. He ought to find a way to compliment Banner, even if it would mean revealing himself. He could leave a note, unsigned- plausible deniability.

Cheered a little at this small mischief, Loki went in search of paper and pencil. It felt like when he was a boy, causing small problems and playing harmless pranks. It was a good feeling, one he missed.

He found the paper relatively easily, a blank scrap on the coffee table in the entertainment area. But the pencil proved harder- Loki hadn’t seen one since he arrived. After a good few minutes of searching, Loki stopped with a frown. He wouldn’t like to, but it was worth a try…

“JARVIS?” He asked the empty air, feeling foolish.

“Yes?” The voice was terse. The robot hated talking to him, too. Loki swallowed that particular strange feeling.

“Is there a- something to write with, that I could use?” He asked, feeling as though he ought to apologize for asking. He refused.

“There is a pen in the drawer to the right of the refrigerator.”

“Ah- thank you.” Loki went back to the kitchen, flushed with embarrassment.

He found the pen easily, and making an effort to disguise his penmanship, wrote ‘ _compliments to the chef,_ ’ and placed the note delicately under the plate in the fridge. He replaced the pen carefully and took his tea, continuing his meandering. He wondered when the Avengers were due back, but he didn’t want to bother the robot again to ask.

There was a hallway in the common area lined with framed photos. Loki looked at them all individually, sipping his cooling tea. There was Barton and Romanov, smirking and grinning, holding up paper targets with holes through them. Though Loki scrutinized it, he couldn’t tell who won. Rogers in black and white, sweat beading his brow, mid-strike on a punching bag. Banner and Stark, heads bent over a small device on a well-lit table. Wanda napping in an armchair.

Thor, napping on a couch. Possibly the same day as Wanda. Thor mid-story, a slice of pizza in one hand and a beer in the other, gesturing wildly. Thor, soaked to the bone but grinning, holding a robot head aloft in triumph. Thor and- Loki’s heart stopped. Jane.

Before he could stop himself, Loki took the photo from its place on the wall. Thor looked so happy, holding Jane and showing her the stars. Curiously, Loki didn’t feel jealous like he once did. Now, he just felt sad. He wondered where Jane was, if Thor was still seeing her. Maybe there were little brunet babies toddling about, and Loki would have no idea- not that he _deserved_ to kno-

The elevator down the hall opened with loud laughter, and Loki dropped the photo as if burned. It bounced off the wall and shattered, glass tinkling into the carpet.

Consequences. There would be consequences.

Loki’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightened, and fear settled over him as he looked up. The Avengers, crowded into the elevator, would be comical in any other situation. But right then, all they looked like was a cave, a serpent- Loki realized he was shaking and willed himself to stop.

“Forgive me.” He couldn’t hide the pleading tone of his voice, and shame colors his cheeks. “I- was not expecting- forgive me.” He bent and began to gather the glass, skimming his hand over the carpet to feel for the pieces he couldn’t see. He could summon them with seidr, but- would that worsen his punishment?

His heart was pounding- they’d put him in chains, he’ll be back on the slab- no, no, he must be calm. The Avengers were rational. Merciful. They may choose a different fate than that slow torture. Surely-

He had the picture in one hand and glass in the other, and he couldn’t stop _shaking-_

Thor approached and Loki couldn’t help but tense. Maybe they sent Thor because he was the only one who could best Loki in brute strength- but he wouldn’t fight, no matter what, he wouldn’t fight. He could show them- show them he could be brought to heel, that he could obey- anything but that cave again- the glass cut into Loki’s palm and blood welled up, bright red and threatening. If it should stain the carpet-

Loki cradled his hand close to his chest, relieved when the blood dripped onto his (Thor’s, really) shirt instead.

“Brother.” Thor spoke lowly, meant only for them. “Why do you tremble so?”

“I broke a rule.” Loki managed, fixated on the blood. “There will be consequences.”

He felt the stony silence and looked up. Thor was all he could see. He looked _pissed._

“I won’t fight. I give you my word, Thor, I-” Loki cut himself off from his hurried placation, looking down at the blood again. His word, after all, is not worth much.

Thor touched him then, gently cupping his elbows. Guided him to turn around.

“Go clean your hand, brother. I must discuss some things with my friends.” Thor’s voice held danger and thunder, but for once not directed at Loki. He gave Loki a very gentle push, and Loki went, swallowing his fright.

He put the glass carefully on the kitchen counter, unsure what to do with it, and put his hand under running water. It’s already healed over, he was just washing the blood off. When he was done, not sure what else to do, he sat at the table, palms flat on the top. And he waited.

He felt like a child again. He could kill them all in their sleep and leave for the far reaches of the galaxy- but where would he go? And why, when Thor was right here? What else could he do but try to prove himself useful, that he might stay by Thor’s side? That would be enough. He did not deserve to ask for more. Just to be near.

When someone else entered the room, it was Thor, who guided him back to Thor’s own room and laid down with him, held him and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Who watched over him when he at last fell into a fitful sleep.

-=-

Loki withdrew, sticking to his and Thor’s rooms even when Thor went out. No consequences had been handed down as of yet, but until they were, Loki would rather not risk incurring worse ones. As much as he disliked addressing the robot, he asked JARVIS to inform him if something he was about to touch was fragile or expensive, just in case, and the robot said he would. He sounded inquisitive as he agreed, but asked Loki no questions.

He still had trouble sleeping at night, which is what eventually drove him to go to the common kitchen, searching for chamomile. He found it easily and was watching it brew on the counter, wondering if he ought to add honey, when he heard the scuff of a footstep behind him.

Dreams of the mad Titan, of the Chitauri, the cave- all thrum through his blood. Older memories, once he’d buried even farther than the rest, of a baby tugged from his arms ( _no no no, shove it down, no, stop_ ) threaten the edges of his mind, and he whirled, daggers in his palms pulled from thin air. He blinked.

Barton, face slack with sleep, stared at him with wide eyes. Loki blinked, blinked again, and finally forced himself to release the daggers, uncurl his fingers and let them fall to the floor. He was shaking again. Another rule- two, technically, as he had to conjure them- consequences would not be escaped this time. Hurriedly, Loki turned, grasping the hot ceramic of his mug. The only thing he could think was if he was holding something, then he couldn’t be a threat.

-=-

Thor woke to JARVIS’ voice telling him Loki needed help in the kitchen. He had never dressed so quickly as he did when Loki was in danger.

He arrived to Loki on the floor, holding a mug of tea like his life depended on it and shaking like a leaf- the scalding tea sloshed over his fingers, burning them angry red. He didn’t even seem to notice. Barton and Stark were there. Thor took in the daggers on the floor, Loki’s vacant gaze. He knelt next to Loki, putting a hand on his shoulder and looking at his friends, brow furrowed.

“What happened?” He rumbled. He thought he’d settled this last time.

“Forgive me, brother.” It was Loki who answered, his voice quiet and hoarse.

“It’s my fault. I accidentally snuck up on him.” Clint had the grace to look vaguely abashed.

“JARVIS alerted me he’d pulled weapons.” Tony said, raising his hands defensively. “Don’t look at me.”

Thor glared- it was Tony who threatened rules and consequences when what Loki needed was care- but that was sort of the point here. Loki needed care.

Thor took the mug, putting it aside. Loki instantly grabbed onto his clothes, and Thor did not protest.

“Can you stand, Loki?” He asked, low and private.

Loki nodded, face open and earnest. He tried, but it was immediately clear he was shaking so hard he wasn’t going to be able to. The revelation seemed to confuse and- _scare_ him. Thor scooped him up before Loki’s mind could turn any further, and it settled something dark and possessive in his chest.

“I am going to settle my brother. You are going to call the Captain, and when I return, we will speak.” Thor used his most kingly voice, and was satisfied when Tony just nodded.

He carried Loki to his room and settled him on the bed, drawing the covers up around him and fluffing them up like a little nest. Mostly he was just looking for an excuse to linger.

“Can you stay here, Loki?” Thor asked softly. “I will return. No one will harm you.”

Loki looked at him, his green eyes fever bright. “I’m not a child.” He murmured. But it was without heat.

Loki did that a lot. Said things that maybe once would have been biting, but he didn’t seem to mean them any longer. Just said them because… habit, most likely. Thor smiled at him anyway, not falling for the bait.

“I’ll stay.” Loki confirmed. His hands clenched on the sheets.

Just as Thor turned the knob on the door, Loki spoke up again.

“It was an accident, Thor. I- just, please, don’t- don’t be cross with your friends over me.” Thor turned to look at him, but Loki was looking down at the bed, brow lined with worry. “Please don’t put me back in the cave.” Loki’s voice was so small, it cracked Thor’s heart. “I’ll do anything.”

Thor went back immediately, curling his hand behind Loki’s neck and squeezing firmly.

“You are _never_ going back there, brother. _Never._ ” He said vehemently.

Loki nodded, not looking convinced. But he said nothing more, and Thor returned to the kitchen. The Captain was waiting. Yawning, but awake.

“I thought we would not have to speak of this again after the last time, but I find I was mistaken.” Thor began. “My brother is in my care, and mine alone. If we need to find other lodging, simply make it known. Otherwise, he is not a threat-”

“Not to play devil’s advocate or anything-” Tony interrupted. “But you’ve kinda got a blind spot when it comes to him.” Thor glared. “But JARVIS has been watching his every move, and he’s as impartial as it gets. What d’ya say?”

Thor was pretty sure JARVIS wasn’t nearly as objective as Tony would have them all believe, but he crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, passively waiting for JARVIS to give his assessment.

“Loki exhibits classic signs of PTSD.” JARVIS responded after the silence had hung for a moment. It was evidently not the answer the Midgardians had been expecting. “If you would direct your attention to the screen.”

Everyone’s eyes flicked to the TV set on the counter. Mostly used for cooking shows and news, it was now displaying security footage of Loki. Loki pacing, Loki sleeping on the floor, Loki screaming himself awake, Loki refusing to sleep and staring out at the city for long periods of time. Where the footage had until that moment been silent, the next cut came with sound.

_Loki, in Thor’s common area, reaching for a decorative vase as though to admire it. It was small, would easily fit into his hand, but he seemed to pause._  
  
“JARVIS?” He asked, looking vaguely towards the ceiling.

“ _That item cost Mister Stark six-thousand euros.” Comes JARVIS, calm and even._

_Loki instantly withdrew his hand, tucking it close to his chest as though someone had threatened to cut it off. “That’s… A lot, then?”_

“ _Quite. The artist makes each piece out of a rare clay.”_

“… _Fascinating.” Loki blinked at the vase before shrinking back further._

A cut, though it appeared to be the same day.

_Loki was in the same room, though a different section. He was pointing at an hour glass on Thor’s TV shelf. It used magnetic shavings instead of sand._

“ _What about that?”_

“ _Ten dollars. Miss Potts found it at a yard sale.”_

_Loki lifted it gently from its place, sitting on one of the armchairs as he ran his fingers over it, naked wonder on his face. He turned it over and over in his hands, watching the sand as though he was a child again._

Another cut, and this time the camera seemed to focus simply on Loki’s hands. In every shot, each timestamped a different day, he was holding something. Loki in the center of rooms when with others, clearly uncomfortable and tense but bearing it, eyes always finding Thor or the exits, or whatever he was holding.

Again, a cut, and sound came back.

_Loki floundering out of his bedroom, gasping, looking each way down the hall in a panic._

“ _Loki?” JARVIS again._

_Loki’s head snapped to the ceiling. “Was there- did you see- was there anyone- anyone here?”_

“ _No, no intruders have breached my defenses.”_

_Loki’s hands were clearly shaking, and he rubbed them together as if to warm them. “You’re sure?”_

“ _Certain. Who did you think was here?”_

“ _I thought- it- it doesn’t matter what I thought.” Loki shook his head, rubbing his face. “Did- did I disturb anyone?”_

“ _Everyone else is alright.” JARVIS said it as though he’d said it many times before, and his tone was more gentle than it had been before._

“ _Right. Yes. Of course.” Loki seemed to at last catch his breath. His shoulders slumped. “Thank you. Good night, JARVIS.”_

“ _Good night, Loki.”_

_With one last wary look around the hall, Loki retreated back into his dark room, closing the door with a soft click._

Another cut, sound still on, but it seemed to be real-time footage now. It was Loki in Thor’s bed, his eyes shut tight and his lips moving like he was praying. His hands rubbed together fervently, and Thor wondered if Loki knew of this habit.

“You absolute _buffoon_ , Loki.” He was hissing venomously to himself. “What did you think would happen? You could just- play nice? And everything would go away? Mortals are mortal but they’re not- _primitive._ Your brother is not king here, and-” He seemed to blanch, his fingers tangling in his own hair. “You’ve _Seen_ what happens, Loki. The Norns have never changed your fate. The cave will be back. The serpent will be back. And you _deserve it, you monster._ ” Loki’s voice shook with self-hatred. Thor felt frozen to his core. “You deserve this. And when it’s over, when they don’t need you anymore, you will be thrown into the bowels of Midgard to be forgotten and you will be _grateful_ for their _mercy_ , you _disgusting wretch._ ”

Suddenly, Loki seemed to sense he was being watched and opened his eyes, looking around himself. He took a deep breath, trying to steady and compose himself, but his hands fisting in the sheets again betrayed him. It broke Thor’s heart. To see his strong, violently fierce brother turn all of that inward. This wasn’t justice, or- or a properly chastened criminal. Loki’s suffering was over, he had paid the necessary price. Why could no one else see that?

At last, the screen flickered off.

“My brother is not a threat.” Thor reiterated into the stony silence. “He is wounded, and he will help us, and it is _we_ who ought to be grateful.”

He left them in silence, returning to his room. Loki’s head snapped up as Thor entered, eyes so so bright.

“Thor, I was thinking-” Loki flinched at his own choice of words, as though him so much as _thinking_ was cause for suspicion. Still, he plowed on. “-I have many skills that could be of use to you and your friends. I can fight, you know I am skilled with a blade. And Mother taught me to See, I could use that against your enemies. Wanda and I have been talking, and her powers are incredibly complimentary to seidr; she may be able to read my mind as I See, she could verify that I pull no ruse. Or- the dwarves, I’m sure they’d be more than happy to create something to ensure I cannot-”

Thor held up his hand, and Loki fell immediately still, his hands trembling from clenching so hard.

“You are forgiven, Loki. You are safe. Worry not.” Thor smiled, and slowly, the tightness in Loki’s shoulders seemed to go slack.

He clearly didn’t believe Thor entirely, but was choosing to trust him, and that meant more than anything else ever had.

“What convinced you? Them?” Loki asked, looking like he’d rather not know the answer.

“You have suffered enough, brother.” Thor sat on the bed slowly.

The fight went out of Loki then, revealing a vulnerability, a softness as he sagged against Thor’s pillows.

“Stay here tonight.” Thor asked.

“As you wish.” Loki conceded.

-=-

When they boarded the quinjet, Loki tugged nervously at the neck of his black jumpsuit. He was uncomfortable, but now was the time. He was to be pointed, to let his seidr roar, to bow to his new purpose as a weapon. And he would bow, because it was Thor asking. Loki sat in the back of the quinjet, away from the other Avengers, and was silent the whole way. He could feel the other’s nerves in the air and turned his face from it. He would not fail. He could obey.

They landed. They pointed him. Loki unleashed, reminded himself to be merciful, kill only those necessary. He stripped the seidr easily from their weapons- it sang to be free. He spearheaded the charge into the building, ripping HYDRA’s weapons from them and leaving the Avengers to clean up behind him.

He had not expended this much seidr in a long time. He was tiring fast, sweating hard. He didn’t stop, though, he didn’t dare slow. He must succeed.

Loki lead the way to the belly of the place, where there was a great thrumming source of seidr. As soon as the weapons were disabled, Loki focused on the source. It must be controlled or released; it was too volatile to continue like this. A trapped beast. The battle waged all around him, but Loki ignored it and plucked at the weave, delicately finding which strings to unravel.

It was intense work, and he was tired and out of practice.

The explosion rocked him, and all he saw was darkness.

-=-

It took far too long to dig Loki out of the rubble. The orb of seidr, fluttering in the center of a device in the middle of the room, had exploded. Loki had thrown his hands out and shielded them all, leaving himself unprotected. When Thor pulled the slab covering his face away, Loki was covered in cuts already healed, bruises already yellowing, but breathing. Alive.

It was enough.

Thor pulled him out, and mission accomplished, the Avengers departed. He would not let go of his brother.

-=-


	2. Ending 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers travel into Loki's mind to pull him out.  
> What they see there, frankly, sucks.  
> But he and Thor finally get together so that's good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is entirely self serving and I don't know how much I love it but I'm proud of the sex scene so XD

Stark had already contacted Strange, so by the time they got back to the tower, Strange was there waiting. Thor laid Loki on the couch, and Strange bent to examine him, magic flowing like water.

“He is trapped, within his mind.” Strange came back with. “You will need to go in and pull him out, and be _careful_ about it. I can send you, but it must be now, quickly- the window is closing.”

The Avengers were not unused to long battles. They collectively rolled their shoulders and prepared. Strange sent them with a Word, and if they were expecting to feel anything they were sorely mistaken.

Thor opened his eyes to see his rooms back in the palace at Asgard. Everything looked as it had, and was so realistic he had to actively remind himself that it was illusion, that they were in Loki’s mind. He looked around, counting heads. Everyone had made it.

“Thor? Lead the way.” Steve nodded his trust, and Thor nodded back.

They exited into a deserted hall. The first place Thor could think to look for Loki was his room, which was only a few doors down. Indeed, when they arrived, there were noises coming from behind the door.

“Brother?” Thor called out. Could it really be this easy?

“ _What?_ ” The door wrenched open, and Loki appeared, looking furious.

He was different in other ways, too. Younger. A teenager, maybe, and he didn’t seem to realize Thor was not alone, though the Avengers also crowd the hall.

“Is it not enough to have humiliated me today, must you come _gloat_ as well?!” Loki spat icily. “Leave me _be_ , Thor.”

“Brother, I’m sorry.” Thor pleaded, hands opening before him in a placating gesture. “We have come to fetch you.”

“Who? Your _friends_?” Loki sneered. “I don’t wish to see _them,_ either. You _knew_ , you brute, what today meant for me and _still_ -” Loki had poked Thor violently in the chest, but the moment they touched, his voice faltered and he went still.

“Oh.” Loki blinked, and seem to realize the others were there, too, at last. “You’re not here for me.” He murmured, realization darkening his gaze. He withdrew, watching them all suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“Where’s older-you so we can give you the kick and wake up?” Tony chirped, thrilled that this Loki at least behaved in a way he was used to.

Teenage-Loki gave him a brief, confused expression before shaking it off with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I know not.” He scoffed, turning up his nose. “Good luck.” He was about to close the door, but Thor’s hand stopped him.

“Brother. Please. Help us search.” Thor asked.

Loki seemed to consider it before sighing and stepping out at last, shutting the door behind him. When no one moved, he made an exaggerated facial expression and gestured for the Avengers to lead the way. The only other place Thor could think to look was the library. So he went, and the others followed, moving swiftly and silently. As they walked, memories passed them in the halls. Slightly fuzzy, transparent images that faded fast as they passed. Loki was the only figure who was solid in them. Loki sitting on windowsills, reading or watching the outside world. Random people walking, from servants to court members to warriors. Some spoke softly, some loudly, some were silent. It was fascinating, until they heard a young, terrified voice.

“No, no, please, I-I won’t tell, please-” As a group, they stopped, looking for the source. The voice so contrasted with the others they’d heard.

A silky, husky woman’s voice replied, inaudible at first but growing clearer once they drew closer in an attempt to find the source. Only Loki hung back, hesitant and pale.

“-little prince, come on, make me feel good.”

They rounded a corner and came upon an alcove. A young, younger than teenage-Loki with them, was trapped in the place by a memory-fuzzy woman. She was beautiful, and older, and was holding one of Loki’s hands between her legs, encouraging him to move there. She didn’t seem bothered by his protests or fear, pressing herself up against him.

“’Boda, please, no, I do not want this. You are beautiful-” The young Loki added hastily, trying to pull away at the same time. “-but not-not tonight, please, ‘Boda, love, I beg you-”

“I love when you play coy, little prince.” The woman, Boda, ignored him again, pressing closer and kissing at Loki’s throat. Loki looked like he was going to be sick, or maybe cry. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lips.

“How do we stop this?!” Thor was shaking with restrained rage. He didn’t want to hurt Loki’s mind, but this- he couldn’t stand by and do _nothing_.

“You cannot.” Teenage-Loki spoke, coming forward. “It’s already happened.” He watched himself struggle against Boda impassively.  
  
“I thought you were courting her?!” Thor couldn’t help the accusatory tone in his voice- why wouldn’t Loki have come to him about this?!

“I did.” Teenage-Loki reached out with something akin to boredom and disdain, stretching through Boda’s memory and touching himself on the shoulder. His younger self disappeared, and Loki’s eyelashes fluttered. “I’m sure we’ll come upon the conclusion soon enough.”

He turned away, and the Avengers had little choice but to follow.

Tony, for one, didn’t want to see any of this. Bad shit happened- it didn’t give anyone an excuse to do bad shit in return. This was changing the image of the Loki he knew in his mind, and it was- uncomfortable. He kept telling himself that there was no excuse until they stopped again, looking into an empty room.

“I cannot do that, Sigyn.” A young Loki was saying, holding a stiletto like it was a viper. He was facing a young man with hair like corn, fine and thin. Blue eyes glinted behind that yellow curtain.

“You can. You must.” Sigyn answered, closing Loki’s hand around the stiletto carefully. “It is self defense. She will not leave you be. She hurts you- no, Loki, it is not shameful.” Sigyn put a hand on the young Loki’s shoulder, as he’d turned away in obvious discomfort.

“It is. I am a prince. My brother has Sif. A marriage with Angrboda would bring us peace with the giants. It is my duty.” He looked like it was the last thing he’d rather do.

“But that is no reason to endure this- see sense, Loki.” Sigyn pleaded. “You don’t have to use it. Just scare her- simply make a statement.”

“Should something happen- they will kill me.” Loki was looking at his companion with a bleak, hopeless expression. “They will hand me to the giants and I will be put to death.”

“No, they will not. You have me in your corner, Loki, I will not allow that. What they do not know cannot hurt you.”

Loki looked at Sigyn like that was a revelation, and as teenage-Loki touched this version of himself, the memory faded too.

“What happened?” Steve asked quietly.

“I used it.” Loki answered without reservation. “I did not intend to, but I did. Sigyn made her disappear. I never asked, they never told, and they were killed a year later in a battle with Jotunheim.” He seemed emotionless, unaffected by the tale, but his twitching fingers betrayed him. “I believe we were headed into the library? It’s through here.”

They strode across the small room, where Loki opened the door to the library, revealing dark bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling. On a windowseat in the back, a Loki no older than six or seven sat, weaving seidr and looking rather frustrated with himself. The moment Thor stepped into the room, however, he looked up.

“Thor!” He cried joyfully, the seidr dissipating. “You’ve returned!” He came running up and collided with Thor’s legs.

Thor looked strained, after the revelations that had already been revealed, Somehow it was this picture of innocence and naivety that would break him.

“Oh- you- you didn’t come back for me.” Loki, the little one, sounded dismayed and pulled away. He scuffed his feet and looked around at the Avengers. “He’s at the Yule celebration, I think.” He mumbled shyly.

Loki the elder looked stricken, although the expression was quickly covered. He knelt before the younger version of himself and put a hand on his head.

“One day, you’ll learn to keep your mouth shut.” He muttered, and Loki the younger disappeared.

“The ballroom, then.” Thor decided.

“If you must.” Loki frowned, but followed as Thor led the way.

The journey to the ballroom had them cut through the throne room, which was vast and golden. Here, another scene waited. They heard it before they saw it, though- Loki was screaming as though a limb had been cut off.

“You are throwing a tantrum, Loki. Stop this, you are no longer a child.” Odin’s voice cut through it, sounding tired and _done._

“Father-” Loki sounded older, somewhere between where he was in the outside world and the teenage tag-along they had. “Father, please, if you have _ever_ cared- _you can’t,_ I beg you, let me take him-”

“Loki. You did your part. It is time to let go.”

“ _He is my son!_ ”

They rounded a column to find Loki kneeling before Odin’s throne, and he looked worse than Thor had ever seen him. He wasn’t so much kneeling as he was collapsed, either.

“ _He’s my son, you-_ ”

“Have care what you say, Loki.” Odin’s tone took on a hard, solid command. It quieted Loki into soft, pitiful sobs.

“He’s my _son_. _Your_ grands-”

“He is no blood of mine.” Odin stood, glaring down at Loki.

Loki, looking around himself as though for someone to help him, suddenly caught sight of Thor and stumbled up to meet them halfway. He looked… _wild._

“Thor- brother- I have no time to explain, _please_ \- Father will not see sense, I can’t-” Tears rolled down Loki’s cheeks anew, and when he caught Thor’s arm he simply collapsed, a wail of anguish rolling out through his chest.

Teenage Loki knelt by his older counterpart. “He was right.” He murmured. “You should have just let it go.” Before touching their shoulders together.

This time, the younger disappeared, and it was the wrecked Loki that remained. The crying immediately stopped, however, and when he stood he seemed much more collected. He wouldn’t look anyone in the eye, however, and when Thor touched his elbow in a question, at a loss for words, he simply pulled away further.

They were losing time.

The ballroom was vast, and glittering, all set up for Yule celebration. The Avengers were met with the ghostly forms of dozens and dozens of people dancing. These seemed more solid somehow, as though they were more fleshed out, a memory more often visited. The most solid by far was Loki, who was instantly recognizable not only because of his solidity but because he looked like the Loki they knew.

He was dancing with a memory of Thor, spinning and spinning. Like this, they looked like lovers. Thor stood frozen in obvious shock, and the Loki with them was suddenly very interested in a nearby tapestry.

The dancing Loki spun closer and closer, laughing and carefree. He seemed to be talking a mile a minute to the memory of Thor, though his voice couldn’t be made out over the music and laughter of other people. It could have remained an innocent thing- two brothers dancing like this was _strange_ , but not unheard of, not _taboo_ -

Until Loki leaned in and kissed the memory of Thor, deeply.

They were still spinning closer, nearer and nearer until Loki spun right into real-Thor’s arms, kissing him full on the lips.

He jumped away as though burned.

“Oh.” Dancing Loki covered his mouth, eyes wide. “Oh, no.” He looked at the other Avengers. “You’re not- oh.” The silence hung, the laughter in the hall dying away. “The last piece of me is in the dungeons. I can take it from here.” He bowed stiffly, formally, before reaching out to the Loki that was with them.

That Loki looked sick and hesitant, but at last reached out and grasped his mirror’s hand. The Loki with them disappeared, and the Loki they knew spent a long time just looking at his now-empty hand.

“To the dungeons, then.” He murmured to himself, and started off without looking back.

At length, and with a silence even more grave, the Avengers followed. They had to- how were they all supposed to get back?

In the dungeon, only one cell was occupied. There was no one else except Loki, but it looked nothing like him. Blue skin and red eyes, he looked like a-

“Beast.” Normal-Loki was outside the cell, sneering at himself. He didn’t seem to have noticed yet that he wasn’t alone. “Look at you- now you’ve done it.” Blue Loki was staring back, unblinking, unflinching, and growling softly. “Come. Time to face our fate.”

Loki reached through the transparent wall of the cell and grasped blue-Loki’s arm. Once more, the blue version disappeared, and suddenly-

They were awake, back in Avengers tower, groggy and fuzzy.

“Thor-” Loki slurred, struggling and flailing as he tried to sit up. “Thor, wait- let me- I can-”

“Enough lies, _brother_.” Thor ground out, danger in his voice, more alert than any of them.

“I never intended-” Loki was blinking, clarity slowly returning, desperation dawning on his face.

“ _Enough._ ”

Thor, Mjolnir in hand, disappeared right back out the door they’d all just come in from.

-=-

At first, Loki seemed to think Thor would return. He nervously hung about the landing pad door like a puppy or a child, carefully avoiding everyone’s gaze and studiously making himself as small and unobtrusive as possible. After the third day, he gave up, retreating to Thor’s floor.

Tony watched him on the security cameras, at first suspicious and wary, unsure what Loki’s plan was now. How much could they trust what they’d seen? What was the truth? At last, his curiosity got the better of him. He traveled down to Thor’s floor, knocking on Loki’s door with the backs of his knuckles.

There was shifting sounds, and then Loki opened the door, eyes on the floor. He had a bottle of moscato in hand.

“What’re you doing?” Tony asked, trying to be casual and missing it by a mile.

“Celebrating.” Loki answered, clearly more inebriated than if he was just the one bottle deep.

“Celebrating?” Tony asked, thrown off.

“The success of the longest endeavor of my life.” Loki hugged the bottle closer. “I have, at long last, gotten my brother- gotten _everyone_ \- to see me for the abom- ab- abolish- monster that I am.” He took a sip of the wine. “Should you want me to move the party elsewhere, as it were-” He took another. “Say the word.”

“Seems like a pretty calm party. You’re good.” Tony said with a pointed look around- if he didn’t know better, he’d have thought Thor’s floor entirely deserted.

Loki snorted derisively. “I am many things, Stark; _good_ is at the bottom of the list.”

“Fair.” Tony acknowledged.

Loki actually laughed, bitter and caustic. “I am, in no sense of the word, ‘fair.’ I am ugly and vin- vind- spiteful. But go on, give me another, make me laugh.” He finished off the bottle, carefully putting it down on the floor.

Tony wondered how his life had come to this.

“Just- take me back, Stark. May as well.” Loki finally looked up at him, though his green eyes were foggy and seeing something else entirely. “He won’t return while I remain, and you need his might.”

The cave.

Not knowing what else to do, or what to say, Tony left with a sigh. It was time to get a hold of Thor.

-=-

When Thor returned, it was late, and raining. He was dripping and soaked, and took the time to dry himself on the common floor. His mind was still churning. As he headed to his own floor, he didn’t know if he was ready to face Loki or not. ‘Ready,’ though, didn’t matter. It needed to be done.

Loki, for his part, had finally managed to fall asleep on the couch in Thor’s common area. He had wanted to be ready for when the Avengers came to collect him, so they wouldn’t have to wait or come find him. At Thor’s appearance, he awoke with a start and a groan, fingers going to his temples before he realized he was no longer alone.

“Thor.” He greeted warily, watching his brother like a cornered animal.

“You are still here.” Thor observed, seeming no more trusting for his time away.

“Where should I go?” Loki asked, sitting up and reaching for the half-empty bottle of vodka that was on the coffee table. “Tell me, and it will be so.” He carefully avoided Thor’s eyes.

Thor was silent and motionless for long enough that Loki was able to wrestle the bottle open and take a healthy swig. He savored the burn and wiped his lips on his wrist. He may as well be smashed for what was coming next, whatever it was.

“If it is the cave, so be it.” He watched the lights of the city reflect off the alcohol. “If it is the battlefield against your enemies, show me the place. If it is a cell somewhere away from all that, or if it is the far reaches of the galaxy, or if you wish I should join our sister in her realm- I will go.” He took another swig.

“I want the truth, Loki. You _will_ tell me the truth.” Thor growled.

Loki laughed mirthlessly. “Of course, Thor.” He hummed. “You have only to ask. The truth of what?”

“What we saw in your mind. Was that the truth?”

“I never intended to reveal it, but yes- Angrboda often behaved that way with me.” Loki purposefully dodged the real question, trying to give Thor a way out.

“ _You know of what I ask._ ” Thor’s voice was thunder, and he strode forward to grasp Loki’s clothes and haul him up so they faced each other.

Loki swallowed the bile that rose with the sudden movement, but he didn’t complain. His eyes flickered over Thor’s face, trying to memorize every feature. He may never see them again, after all.

“Yes, I had a son. Where did you think Sleipnir came from; a horse with eight legs?” Loki shakily pushed onwards, desperately trying to make Thor see that they didn’t have to talk about this at all. “Not that he knows me; ripped away as soon as he could stand.”

Thor’s grip tightened, and thunder crashed outside.

“I am trying to spare you, oaf.” Loki mumbled, feeling his heart sink. Would Thor beat him? It was not the worst reaction Loki had imagined.

“Answer. Me.” Thor’s blue eyes were dark with threat.

“I have always loved you, Thor.” Loki felt as though the words were ripped from him. “I have burned for you. Lusted after you.” This was his last chance, to keep Thor from this blackness inside of himself. “ _Fucked_ myself to the thought of you.” If he could disgust Thor enough, Thor would let go, and Loki would- he didn’t know what he’d do, he’d cross that bridge when he got there. “When I learned we were not truly brothers, I thought I could court you. Slowly, insidiously, _make_ you love me the way I do you. But then I learned what I was and I knew it would never be. I am a curse, Thor, a poison. Did you expect anything different? Fool. Unhand me, _brother_ , and hand down my sentence.” Loki ended viciously, which was almost more than he had energy for.

Thor’s eyes searched his own, but Loki was terrified to see understanding dawning there, not disgust.

“No- no, Thor-” He tried to backpedal, but it was too late.

“Your sentence?” Thor asked, his voice low.

His grip shifted on Loki’s clothes, and he knocked the bottle of vodka out of Loki’s hand, spilling it everywhere. He threw Loki over his shoulder, holding him tight.

“I will hand down your sentence, brother, gladly.” Thor muttered, as though it wasn’t meant for Loki to hear but he also didn’t care if he did.

Loki struggled weakly, squirming. Thor’s shoulderplate dug hard into his soft midsection, and he strained against Thor’s hand and arm with a high noise he would deny until the day he died. Which may be soon, considering. They reached Thor’s bedroom, and Loki found himself thrown onto the red sheets and pinned there with Mjolnir on his ribs before he could make his head stop spinning.

This was not what Loki had imagined. He felt a thrill of fear, watching as Thor turned on the light and all but ignored him as he began disrobing down to plainclothes, hanging up his cape and removing the plates of armor. He didn’t have to do it this way- he was taking his time on purpose.

“You do not have to pin me, Thor.” Loki spoke fast, trying to bargain. He knew better than to struggle against Mjolnir- it was not crushing him now, but the more he struggled the more weight it would add. “I will not fight your judgment.”

“No, but you will run.” Thor acknowledged, still not granting his full attention.

Loki wondered, briefly, if he was above begging. The longer he was pinned, the higher his anxiety climbed. Thor was only to his bracers, fiddling with the small clasps and leather ties.

“Please, Thor, I won’t run. I’ll stay right here. I deserve whatever happens, I know that.” Not above begging, then.

“Are you asking me to trust you?” Thor asked, dubious and taunting, pausing in unbuckling his weapon belt to regard Loki with a raised eyebrow. It was a low blow, one Loki knew he absolutely had coming.

“No, no-” Loki’s heart rabbited in his chest. “No, I, I wouldn’t.”

Thor snorted, returning to his clothes, and Loki flinched. Had it coming, but it still hurt.

“Thor, I beg you, free me. I am at your mercy.” He tried, voice almost a whisper, because apparently he didn’t know when to shut up.

“Yes, you are.” Thor finally approached the bed, removing Mjolnir only to replace it with his own hand.

Loki felt the warmth seep through his clothes, knew Thor must be able to feel his pounding heart. He was painfully aware of every move Thor made, throwing his leg over Loki’s hips and sitting on his thighs.

“Did you think of this? Of me over you?” Thor demanded. His hand on Loki’s chest moved to under his shirt, against his skin. Loki took a shuddering breath.

“Yes.” He confessed. Already, syrupy warm pleasure was suffusing throughout his body at every place they touched, and he felt that heat and the coupled shame color his cheeks.

“What did you use when you thought of me?” Thor demanded, his hand beginning to travel, mapping Loki’s chest and stomach.

Loki’s breath hitched. “Why do you want to know, Thor? Do you wish my humiliation? My shame? I assure you I feel those things already.”

“I wish the truth, brother.” Thor’s hand slid away before rucking up Loki’s shirt to under his arms, and then off. “You are mine, to do with as I please, and how am I meant to hand down the proper sentence when I know not the full scope of the crime? I’m never letting you go, Loki. Do you understand? Tell me.”

“My fingers. Sometimes a toy.” Loki whispered, his chest positively heaving. He didn’t know what to expect- had he already somehow corrupted Thor? Made him feel the same, despite trying his best to stay away?

“And what did you use for slick, there in the dark?” Thor rubbed his sternum like he was soothing a spooked horse, his tone moving to gentle. Loki hated that it worked.

No one had touched him in so long. He was the boogeyman, the monster; the only touch he received was pain, for so long. And here Thor was, serving up everything he’d ever wanted on a silver platter. Loki had spent so long fighting this. If Thor wanted to give it, what could Loki do but give in? Enjoy it while it lasted, because surely it wouldn’t be forever, regardless of what Thor told him.

“Oil. Spit. Soap.” Loki almost thought Thor wouldn’t hear him, his voice had gone so soft.

“And were they enough, your fingers?” Thor looked him full in the face. It was too much.

Loki turned his head away and closed his eyes, and Thor let the silence be what finally broke him.

“No.” He whispered.

Thor let out a rumble from deep in his chest that Loki couldn’t decipher, and pressed briefly on Loki’s collarbone in a clear order to _stay_ before withdrawing. Loki stayed, his eyes shut tight. He felt weak and vulnerable, and he hated the feeling, but he didn’t know what else to do except obey. The release of the secret unmoored him, but it was also freeing. Whatever came after, it seemed, was in Thor’s hands, and he was well prepared for it.

Loki was ripped out of his thoughts as Thor grabbed the waistband of his pants and underwear and yanked them down in one clean motion. He yelped and tucked his legs up, trying to cover the fact that he was half hard and growing, afraid Thor might be of the mind to separate him from himself.

“No.” Thor growled. “You will not conceal anything from me any longer, Loki, put your legs _down_.”

Slowly, Loki obeyed.

Thor returned, pushing Loki’s legs apart to settle between them, rough and unminding of Loki’s shame. He lay naked under Thor’s eyes, which roved his pale skin and took in every scar and blemish, every mark and plane of smooth skin.

“Thor-”

Thor’s fingers were suddenly in his mouth, filling the space and muffling his voice. Loki had the first three on his tongue, Thor using his thumb and little finger to hold Loki’s chin and keep him where Thor wanted him.

“You are not helpless, brother.” Thor’s grip was firm, but his eyes had gone soft. “If you do not want this, I know you can stop me.” Loki swallowed and gave the most minute of nods to acknowledge him.

That was the trouble. He _did_ want this. Wherever it was going. Thor’s eyes had turned hard again.

“It is your turn to hear truths. I do not mind your true parentage, nor your true shape. You are Loki, my brother, at once enemy and friend. I love you more than all nine realms could hold.” Loki felt himself start to tremble helplessly. Thor’s fingers tasted of salt and leather, and made Loki’s mouth water.

“And now I have your sentence.” Thor leaned in, covering Loki’s body with his own, gold on silver. “Loki Liesmith, you are _mine._ Loki Silvertongue, I bind you, in the name of all three Norns.” Loki felt Thor’s rarely used seidr sink into his skin, a weave made of sunshine and lightning, the reflection off puddles and the illusion haze of water on rock on a hot day. He shuddered. Where had Thor learned this? “Loki Laufeyson, by Wyrd I bind your power to me. By Verthandi I bind your breath. Loki, Odinson, Friggason, I bind you by Skuld, that you be by my side for all time.”

Loki couldn’t speak around the fingers in his mouth and didn’t try to. He shook with the power of the seidr and rode the feeling out as the weave sunk into his skin, tingling and warm. Thor’s fingers stroked his tongue, thrusting, before pulling away. Thor’s other hand took Loki’s leg beneath the knee and rose, pulling him apart and holding him open. Wet, cool pressure teased his hole.

“Thor-” He choked, and Thor pressed one slick finger in, slowly and unrelenting and _thick_. Loki couldn’t help the groan that tumbled out, or the way he arched his back.

“Were your fingers this big? Did they reach where you needed?” Loki couldn’t answer, unable to string enough words together to form an intelligent response as Thor began gently thrusting and searching.

The answer was no, of course, Loki’s own fingers had never been enough and certainly couldn’t compare to the real thing. Thor pressed another finger in a bit too early, but Loki relished the burn.

“No, I thought not. How tightly you grasp me here, Loki. Will you feel the same around my cock?” Thor began to thrust harder, stretch him more, and Loki whimpered. “I think you will. I think all you needed was a firm hand.” Thor slid in another finger, bent Loki’s leg more, and pushed deep. Loki groaned.

“That’s good, Loki. Let me hear how much you needed this.” Thor encouraged, voice full of gravel, approving. He reached and found the place inside Loki that made his mouth drop open but no sound come out. The praise brought along the distant realization that if Thor didn’t stop, he was going to come.

“Thor- Th-Thor, I-” He tried, feeling like something was stuck in his throat.

Thor suddenly withdrew, leaving Loki feeling like his skin was made of sparklers. Then the big hands were back, manhandling Loki onto his hands and knees, pushing so that his ass was up and his shoulders down. And then there was something slick and hard and _not_ fingers and oh- Thor was still _clothed_ -

Loki moaned as Thor bottomed out, fisting his hands in the sheets.

“It’s okay.” Thor rumbled, husky with pleasure. “You can make a mess of yourself.” He rubbed the small of Loki’s back, sheathed fully inside and waiting for Loki to adjust.

Loki could feel the way Thor’s cock settled inside him, twitching sometimes and threatening a moan from Loki’s throat. He was big- so much bigger than Loki’s imagination could have conjured, and there was no compromise as Thor made space for himself in Loki’s body, settled deep and claiming. Then, with his hands locked on Loki’s hips stopping him from moving, Thor began to thrust.

Loki instantly cried out, scrabbling at the bedsheets. Thor was fucking him hard and deep, just on this side of pain, and though Loki tried to arch his back to make the angle more comfortable to receive, Thor was firm and held him in place, forcing him to take what was given. Thor steadily increased his pace until Loki was mewling desperately into the sheets, capable only of holding on for dear life.

“Good- see?” Thor sounded breathless, but completely in control. “You take me so well, Loki, so tight for me.” Thor broke off to pant, falling forward to brace himself on one arm and cover Loki’s body with his own. “I am going to come deep inside you, mark you up. They’ll all know you are bound to me, the great Loki leashed and collared. You are _mine_.” Thor growled fiercely.

“Yours.” Loki agreed weakly back. Not because he didn’t enthusiastically agree, because he did, but because he hardly had breath to reply. He reached up, hesitant and terrified and lost somewhere in his own mind where this moment was the only thing that had ever existed, this pleasure the only thing he’d ever felt. He grasped Thor’s bicep. “Mine?” He asked in a small voice.

Thor was silent, his hips slowing, and it made Loki panic blindly. He released Thor as though burned and put his hand back in the sheets to prevent himself from doing any other stupid thing with it. He realized suddenly that he was babbling.

“Sorry, sorry- yours, yours, yours, sorry-” He chanted.

Thor’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him back, and suddenly Thor was even deeper, with Loki in his lap.

“Shhh, Loki, shhh. Yes, yours. Of course, yours.” Thor soothed, grinding deep and lighting up Loki’s world. “Of course.” And his voice was so warm and soft, Loki couldn’t help but believe him.

Loki clutched at Thor, trying desperately to find some way to hold on as he came and came and came with a sob, Thor groaning in his ear and suddenly it was warmer, inside, and movement was easier. Loki fell limp and shivering against Thor’s chest. Thor was stroking his sides, petting him, gentling him down. Loki didn’t know why, but he felt cold all of a sudden- so cold. He didn’t want Thor to go anywhere.

When Thor at last softened enough to slip out of him, Loki let out a noise of loss. Thor hushed him, scooped him up, and took him to the bathroom. The move was a blur, but Loki jumped when warm water touched his skin. Again, Thor eased him, stepping into the spray with him. It came from above like rain, and when Thor pressed him against the tiles to kiss him, they were warm.

Loki lost time in that shower, kissing Thor and letting the water wash them clean. Somewhere in there, he came back to himself. He did not offer words on the way back to bed, and Thor did not ask for any. Loki hadn’t been touched in so long; Thor was the only person who had ever not minded touching him. He felt like he was still drunk; alcohol, seidr, and endorphins all doing their jobs quite well.

He was asleep before he hit the pillow, Thor’s arms strong and protective around him.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't satisfied with it when I wrote the initial end, so I may rewrite it eventually; thus, the "end" is in the next chapter. Sorry to separate it!


End file.
